A second.

Music swells, building so slow you can't capture the moment when it changes from simplicity to the rush of galaxies, universes, contained within each note.

Caffeine, sugar, anti-depressants.

Advil, Alieve, Tylenol, Asprin.

Alcohol, steroids, chloraseptic.

...I'll be your lover, I'll be yours... - David Bowie and Placebo. Nifty song. Sharp edges.

Waiting.

Everything is waiting now. Ideas, things I'd not known a week ago... so many simple little moments, tiny gestures that could turn my life into a swift spin into the darkness music is born in. Tempting... but as I've said before, it's all talk. A few cuts, one more pill than I need, a minute or two longer spent out-of-doors in the torment of sun or the shadowed depths of night. The feel of water on my face. The sound of sirens screaming, streaming, into nothingness. An orgasm.

Little deaths.

My heart is racing.

I had something I'd wanted to write about, something that came to mind while I was in the kitchen, reading. I don't remember what it was, and that bothers me. I know it was something that, at the time at least, seemed incredibly important. *shrugs*